


Just let me adore you

by vcnot



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Digital Art, Drama, Eroda, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-One Direction, alternative universe, based on harry going to japan in 2018-2019, harry is lonely and sad, zayn is here but at the same time its not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 10:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23849764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vcnot/pseuds/vcnot
Summary: "The Boy was not alone in his melancholy. He wondered what could bring despair to something so beautiful. He tried to ignore the fish, but loneliness is an ocean full of travellers trying to find their place in the world. But without friendship, we are all lost and left with no hope, no home, no harbour. He wondered what cruel twist of fate brought them together, and if fate was indeed involved, what did she have in store."
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Just let me adore you

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! its been a while since i have post something here, but i wanted to give another opportunity to my wirting again and here we are I guess.
> 
> BTW i been saying in twitter since december that i was gonna finish bc this was supposed to be a big ass one shot, but then my ideas got all over the place and I think that a multiple chapter story could explain my ideas better, I cant promise that im gonna post soon the next chapters but bc the quarentine i guess i can make the effort to be more consistent in the uploads.
> 
> EDIT 29/04/20:  
> Hi if you`re reading this fic for the fist time well then god bc the reading before the edit was a complete mess haha... like i said in the old description english its not my first language so i get confused the past and present tenses bc of it and that was the problem with the old writting, fortunately my two amazing Beta readers @crurulbys who was basically my saviour for correcting my grammar errors and @starthemachine that help me out with how the story was developing with dramatic turns, so yeah again thank you for reading this fic and hopefully you stick here for a little while :)

_"Goodbye," said the_ **_fox_ ** _. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."_

 _"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the_ **_little prince_ ** _repeated, so that he would be sure to remember._

  * _**Antone de Saint-Exupéry, Le petit prince (1951)**_



\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry is a social drinker.

Or at least that’s what he pretends to be when he gets drunk at the social events he’s invited to.

Last time he ever got drunk like this was 4 years ago, in some bar in Berlin that he can’t remember the name of. In that bar he found a stranger who was kind enough to share a couple of drinks with and listen to his rather pathetic but melancholic vent that night, it was one of the few times in his young adult life in which he wasn’t the larger than life, romantic teenage celebrity Harry Styles, he was just a lost naïve boy who got his heart broken by a simple phone call and all he needed was a shoulder to cry on.

This time, however, he can’t remember exactly why he got drunk like this.

Because now that his senses are coming back to him he doesn’t feel a bed or even a sofa beneath him like he’s used to, like the times he’d gotten wasted enough to fall asleep on a couch before calling an uber and his friends kindly let him crash the night.

The surface feels like….sand?

Now that he thinks about it, it smells like salt water, almost like the ocean beach.

Something isn’t right.

Harry slowly starts to open his eyes and that’s when he notices he’d been sleeping on his stomach the whole time. Not only that, he realizes that the surface he’s lying on is in fact real sand.

“Huh....”

Still on his stomach he examines the place he’s in; yes it is real sand, yes there is real sea water that by the looks of the tide had come dangerously close to his upper body.

“Uh…”

This is new, Harry had never gotten so drunk to the point that he didn’t know where the hell he was. He gets up and sees that his white baggy sweater and black jeans are all covered in muddy sand.

“The fuck?”

His panic begins to increase when he remembers the last thing he was doing, he was having a karaoke night with a couple of friends in some cheerful tiny bar.

In Tokyo, Japan.

And from where he’s standing it doesn’t look like Tokyo at all.

It looks like a beach.

A very dramatic one if he’s being honest.

The sky is moody grey like it’s about to rain, the sand is muddy but it wasn’t because of the ocean tide, it looks like it had been raining earlier in the day but for some reason his clothes aren’t wet at all, kind of dirty but it was because of the sand, nothing out of the ordinary. He notices that the ocean waves were becoming kind of violent because of how they were hitting some giant rocks near him. Looking at the whole place in more detail it kind of looked like Ireland, he had been to Ireland before, he knows how their beaches look like. But how did he travel from Tokyo to some random beach in Ireland through the duration of a hangover?

“I must be fucking dreaming this can’t be-“

He starts muttering to himself until he remembers his cellphone which he searches his whole body for until he finds it in the back pocket of his jeans.

He sighs in relief when it’s surprisingly still in good condition and still has some battery on it. His relief quickly disappears when he notices that it only has 8% left.

_ Shit shit shit shit _

_ He’s _ got to think fast.

First the signal.

He raises his phone and yes there’s a decent signal so he can make a phone call.

Now who the hell could he call?

He thinks about calling Jeff but what could he do about this? Harry doesn’t even know where he is exactly.

He could call Fujii, he’s the last of his social group to be with him last night but again what could he do?

His mom maybe?

Not a chance, he could be lost on a deserted weird island but the last thing he’d want to hear right now is his mother’s desperate voice pleading to God asking where her missing son is.

He notices that the phone battery had dropped to 6%.

_ Oh fuck it _

He starts dialing Fujii, he’s gotta know where Harry went, maybe this was just a very bad prank, yeah that’s gotta be it, at the end of the day Harry will laugh about this with Fujii and he will reconsider his alcohol consumption next time. 

The phone is silent.

He starts to bite his nails, ignoring that they’re painted, his stress building when the cell phone doesn’t make a ringing sound to signal it’s dialed correctly.

**_“We are sorry but the number you dialed does not exist.”_ **

Harry’s heart drops.

This has got to be a very disgusting prank that was never funny to begin with.

He quickly looks for Jeff’s number to dial.

He waits anxiously for the dial sound.

**_“We are sorry but the number you dialed does not exist.”_ **

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Harry’s hands begin to shake as he looks for his last option, he opts for Gemma now because again, if he hears the voice of his mother’s crying he’ll surely start crying as well. He needs help and if this doesn’t work out then God help him because his phone was about to die.

He dials his sister’s number.

He prays for this to finally work. 

He waits for the dial sound.

**_“We are sorry but the number you dialed does not exi-“_ **

Oh no. 

His phone dies.

He’s fucked. 

He collapses to his knees on the sand and thinks about how he’s going to die here, alone on some unknown island he doesn’t remember traveling to. 

Maybe this was heaven? Hell?

Maybe he had consumed so much alcohol to the point of inducing himself into an ethyl coma and died on the floor of some shitty karaoke bar in Tokyo and now his soul was wandering the underworld because of whatever thing he did wrong.

Harry stares blankly at the ocean as tears fall from his eyes, accepting whatever fate this was. 

He’s being kind of dramatic to be honest but he’s scared and alone as well.

Harry sits there on the sand until he hears the honk of something.

It sounded like a boat.

Harry raises his head in confusion to see where the sound had come from, he waits a little to check if it’s only his imagination playing mind games on him until he hears the same honk again growing a little distant. To his surprise he’s greeted with a boat arriving at the shore nearby, and if that’s the case then that meant this beach wasn’t uninhabited.

‘ _ ’Ah…so I was just being dramatic…. _ ’’ He thinks. 

Thank God no one was around to witness his mental breakdown, but that didn’t explain why all his phone calls had failed, this place had a phone signal decent enough to make a couple of phone calls.

_ So why had all his contacts apparently disappeared? _

Harry’s thoughts are interrupted when he hears a loud thunderclap and dark clouds forming in the sky. He quickly stands when he feels the rain, which was now pouring towards the boat that was getting closer to the shore. As he begins to run he notices a few things:

There’s a big light house near some humble houses; maybe the people who live there were taking care of the light house? (He wants to believe this.) 

Apparently this place was used as a port for local fishmongers (He guesses this after seeing a lot of fishing equipment).

And last but not least, there were a lot of boats on the shore but not a single soul in sight.

God, Harry must look like a complete madman.

Wet, hungover, and confused, running towards a boat.

That doesn’t matter now, all he’s thinking about is how he’s going to explain his situation to the people inside the boat, ask them for a phone, ask them who he needs to talk to to get off this island. Maybe ask for a dry change of clothes before he gets a cold as well.

Harry snaps out of his thoughts as he sees a very strong flash of lightning strike the boat, literally splitting it in half. He screams, falling backwards into the sand, trembling in horror as he watches the remains of the boat sink with maybe all the passengers inside.

“See? I told you the poor old bastard wasn’t going to make it.“

“Oh poor old Arlo if only he could have waited another day to return...”

“Yeah how tragic, anyways pay up boys the old man didn’t make it so that means I win the bet.“

“Oh buzz off Mike have some respect for the dead, mate.”

Harry hears some voices coming from the beach port, he turns around to see a group of men standing outside a hut which they’re probably using for shelter from the rain; they must be fishermen by the way some of them are dressed; rubber gloves, boots, yellow coats and jumpers. 

Shaking off his nerves from the horrifying scene he just witnessed, Harry decides to ask them for help despite feeling like he could have a heart attack at any moment.

  
  


“Um excuse me.” Harry says, getting the attention of the men who look at him as if they’ve just seen a ghost.

“Erm, it seems that I am somewhat lost.” He tries his best to sound calm but he hears his own voice tremble, clearly still affected by the event he just witnessed.

“I don’t know where I am right now and my cell phone just died a while ago, I was hoping one of you could help me by lending me a phone? I would really appreciate if any of you could tell me where I am exactly.” 

The group of men look perplexed at Harry and say nothing at all. 

God, he must really look like some kind of madman right now, none of these men know who the hell he is. 

Maybe he needs to explain his situation better.

“Um, I know I may look like a lunatic but I assure you I’m not, I just don’t know how I got here, let me explain myself you see I was having a couple of drinks with a group of friends in- “

“It’s you.”

One of the men finally speaks to Harry.

_ “Oh so they must recognize huh…” _

Harry thinks, maybe one of them was going to sell the story of a drunk Harry Styles wandering around some random island to a magazine, maybe this would be the craziest thing they would publish about him but hey it’s not like it’d be the first time, except that this one would actually be real.

“Hah, hah, yeah it’s me.” Harry says with a forced smile, trying to ease up the mood of this already uncomfortable conversation. 

“Would any of you would be so kind as to lend me a phone?’’ He can feel the tension in his shoulders building up. “And I think we need to call an ambulance as well; you know because of the boat that just got destroyed….I’m sorry but am I the only one that seems to care that a person just died in a horrible way?’’

The men immediately take a step back when Harry walks a little closer towards them. 

“Uh…” Harry makes a funny expression to an already odd moment.

The men start muttering to each other.

“No way that can’t be him.”

“It’s him! Is he a ghost or something? Did he come back to haunt us?”

“Don’t be stupid it can’t be that boy, we all know what happened to him.”

“The other boy told everyone what happened to him, do you think he lied?”

Okay, Harry’s getting annoyed. And kind of worried as well, because he doesn’t know what these men are referring to, but he’s mostly annoyed. All he wants is to find a phone and call 911 and get off this unknown island back to Tokyo where he’s supposed to be.

Harry clears his throat to gain their attention again.

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to sound rude but I would really appreciate if any of you could lend me a phone-“

When Harry steps a little closer to the group of men they all immediately run away to the hut where they were taking shelter before.

_ “What the fuck its going on?“  _ Harry thinks, even more confused than before because of how ridiculous the situation was becoming.

First, he wakes up on a random island when he was supposed to be in Tokyo, Japan last night.

Then, he can’t call any of his contacts because they apparently didn’t exist.

Then, lightning destroys a boat and kills the man inside of it and the fishermen didn’t even seem to care.

Now, those said fishermen treat Harry as some kind of ghost seeking vengeance? Or some kind of shit like that.

What the fuck is going on indeed.

But right now he isn’t going to wait for an answer, he needs to call someone to get him out of this place. He’s wet and cold because of the rain, a warm blanket would be nice too. Harry looks around and sees a pair of women walking by the shore, maybe they could help him.

“Excuse me!” He yells, gaining the attention of the women who quickly turn their indifferent expressions to the same horrified faces the fishermen gave him earlier.

“Could you please tell me where I am? Also, could one of you lend me a phone I could use-“

“It’s him…” One of the women mutters to the other.

“Yes, it’s me I know.” Harry says, running out of patience. He decides to get closer to the two women. “Ma`am, I don’t mean to sound rude but it would be great if you-“

“Stay away from us!” One of the women strikes Harry in the face with her purse, making him take a few steps back, completely confused about what just happened.

“Dhelia! Calm down, maybe we are confusing him, it can’t be him, the other boy said he was gone.”

“Of course not, just look at him! It’s that cursed boy and he came back to haunt us as a ghost!”

While the two women begin to argue with each other Harry decides to give them a piece of his mind.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not a ghost, lady.‘’ Harry says, rubbing his cheek from the pain. He decides to get closer once again. “Listen, I really don’t know what’s going on but I would really appreciate if you could tell me where I am- “

The pair of women immediately flee from Harry, screaming while doing so.

Harry just stands there completely lost and more confused than ever.

  
  


“ _ What the fuck is going on!?” _

That’s all that’s screaming inside his mind right now. 

He doesn’t give up. Harry knocks door to door of the nearby houses close to the port but some of them don’t even bother opening the door, and when they do they just need one look at his face before immediately shutting the door in his face and proceeding to lock all their door locks for good measure. If people see him in the street they simply run away screaming or hide from him, all of this rejection makes Harry feel more anxious than he ever had before, he’s used to people following him in the street but people running away from him? That’s new.

Harry’s exhausted at this point.

He can’t find a single person that can help him or wants to help him, Harry feels as if he’d been walking for hours. Giving up knocking on houses, he decides to return to the beach where the lightning struck the boat.

He thinks about how the fishermen looked more scared to see him than witnessing a very gruesome death caused by mother nature.

Everything was just too weird and confusing.

It’s already getting dark and it looked like it was about to rain again, and after what happened to old Arlo, Harry knows he needs to find shelter somehow and suddenly he sees his last chance to get help in the distance. 

There’s a person on the beach who looked to be painting the scenery or something, well Harry didn’t know, Harry could only see their back. 

The stranger looks skinny, not very tall, they’re wearing a turtleneck for the chilly weather and possibly incoming rain, and comfy brown pants. Even though they look kind of refined, by the way all their art supplies were scattered in the sand, maybe they had come to paint before the rain hit.

  
  


Harry decides to get closer to the stranger, mentally praying that they wouldn’t run from him and actually try to help him somehow. Harry taps their back from behind.

“Excuse me, um…I don’t mean to interrupt you but I was wondering if maybe you could-’’

When the stranger turns to face him Harry stands completely frozen, now he’s the one who looks as if he’s seen a ghost.

The stranger makes the same expression that Harry makes, his paintbrush falling from his hand into the sand.

The stranger’s face has very sharp cheekbones, skin honey brown, pretty big eyelashes, big brown eyes with a couple of eye bags, he’s wearing glasses as well, sporting a refined beard with a hairline that’s cut to be kind of short but is long enough now that it’s grown a little fluffy. 

Oh god.

This guy looks like-

``Za-Zayn?’’

Harry blurts out loud while his voice cracks, of all the people he could have found in this place, why did it have to be the person he hasn’t seen in years?

Let alone that, what was he doing here as well?

Oh to hell with that, this was perfect, this was his opportunity to finally get out off this island, they could talk about everything else later. 

“Uh….”

He needs to say something oh God.

“It’s you.”

Harry hears Zayn say in his characteristic Yorkshire accent. Zayn goes pale for a moment but his shocked surprise is still noticeable.

``Yeah, it’s me.’’ Harry sighs in relief, finally he was going to get some help. “Look we can chat later about other stuff, right now I’d love to know where the hell we are I?’’ 

The silence between them is so uncomfortable he could cry right then.

``I was in Japan having a Karaoke night with a group of friends and I don’t know, I guess I drank too much? Cause I woke up here in who knows where, I tried to call for help but none of my contacts were available for some reason and my phone died after that, I tried to get the attention of a boat but then it was struck by lightning and that basically sank the whole thing.’’ Harry’s tone was beginning to get faster. “Then I tried to get help from a group of fishermen and they just ran away from me and I don’t know why, a pair of women did the same and one of them hit me with her purse, I tried to get help from other people as well but all of them ran away from me like I got some kind of disease or something I don’t know, Zayn please you’ve got to help me if you’re here then that means this is all a prank right? A pretty disgusting one, but please tell me that this prank is over and I’m finally going home.’’

Zayn just stares completely perplexed at Harry. He raises his hand to touch Harry’s cheekbone in disbelief.

“Oh god…I’m not dreaming am I? Is it really you?”

Harry notices Zayn’s eyes tear up like it’s emotional to see Harry again. To be honest, Harry has no idea where Zayn had been these past years.

After his departure from the band, Harry lost all possible contact he had with him, not even when Liam asked him if he wanted to talk to him after Harry discovered that Liam and Zayn were texting in secret so as not to upset Louis, he just made an excuse like,  _ “Oh, I’m kind of busy but tell him I said hi.” _

Last thing Harry knew was the typical gossip since he started dating Gigi, breaking up and getting back together, typical Zayn behavior, Zayn was always very persistent on romantic relationships even when he knew they may never have a permanent future. Zayn supposedly broke up with Gigi again and then sold his New York penthouse to basically disappear from public view, so maybe he came here? But even so, why did he appear to be this…sad, looking at Harry?

Having Zayn’s hand on his cheek now feels….familiarly warm.

Something that Harry and Zayn had many years ago, so many secrets, runaways, things that Harry plans to take to his grave.

“Yeah Zayn, it’s me.”

Harry tries to smile but he feels a little awkward having Zayn so close to him after so many years, and Zayn’s expression looks confused now.

“Wa-wait what did you just call me?”

“Uh, what?”

“Did you just call me Zayn?”

“Yeah, pretty sure that’s your name.’’

Zayn removes his hand away from Harry’s cheek with an even more confused expression, making Harry feel more awkward and weirded out at the same time.

“I’m sorry, what was your name?”

Harry makes a funny expression and tries to get closer to Zayn but Zayn steps back a little.

“What’s your deal Zayn? It’s me, Harry.”

Harry starts to worry now that Zayn looks as terrified as the fishermen did. Harry looks at him closer and notices that Zayn doesn’t have any of his tattoos on his hands or neck.

“Your smile… It’s not…” Zayn says in a barely audible, hushed voice. 

Zayn isn’t wearing any of his usual piercings either, instead he’s wearing a single gold earring in his left ear. Harry’s the one who feels cold in that moment as he takes some steps backwards.

_ What the hell is happening? _

This person apparently isn’t Zayn.

But how can that be?

He has his same features, same eyes, same eyelashes, same lips, basically his whole face is Zayn.

Then “Zayn” starts to pick up all his stuff as fast as he can and Harry starts to panic again.

“Sorry, I think I confused you for another person.”

“Hey no please wait-“

“And I think you got the wrong person as well, if you want a phone just go into town before it gets dark it’s not too far away.”

“But- “

“If people get scared of you just tell them your name and if that doesn’t work then just smile at them.”

“W-what the hell are you talking about? Smile at them?”

Zayn, or whoever this person was, grabs his last tube of paint and stuffs it in his bag, closes his easel, and lifts his canvas with the still fresh paint on it onto one arm, staining his pants in the process.

“Yeah just smile at them, trust me it’s going to work so good luck with that.’’ He begins to walk away from Harry, avoiding his eyes.

Harry quickly starts to follow him.

“H-hey wait a second!”

The stranger doesn’t bother looking back and just keeps walking faster.

“I already told you where you can get help, now please leave me alone.”

Harry manages to speed up his pace to prevent him from escaping.

“Now you listen to me whoever you are,” Harry says in a demanding voice, “You can’t just ignore me after you acted as if you knew me, I don’t even know where the fuck I am and you expect me to get into town just like that?!”

“It’s not far from here, you just need to follow the road near the lighthouse now get out of my way.’’ The stranger tries to pass him again but Harry grabs his hand.

“Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me who the hell you are.” Harry tightens his grip when the stranger tries to shake his hand loose. “If you aren’t Zayn then who the hell are you and why do you look exactly like him?”

“First of all, I don’t know this ‘Zayn’ you are talking about.” Harry’s grip only gets tighter. “Second of all, why the hell would I tell a complete stranger my fucking name?”

“I’m not a stranger for fuck sake!” Harry almost yells. “It’s me goddammit, it’s me Harry.” He can feel tears spring to his eyes out of frustration. 

“Well Harry, I don’t know you at all and if you don’t let me go I swear to God I will scream.” The stranger doesn’t look back at all and continues to tug his hand. Harry just lets go. “Good luck finding that phone, now please just leave me alone.”

The stranger readies himself to sprint off to avoid Harry following him again, but freezes when he hears Harry’s voice cracking up.

“My name is Harry Edward Styles.”

The stranger stays still. 

“I’m 25 years old, I was born in Redditch, UK but I currently live in LA and sometimes in London.’’ 

Thunder had started to sound faintly in the distance.

“I have a big sister named Gemma and my mom’s name is Anne, I had the best stepfather in the world but I lost him a year ago, his name was Robin.’’ Harry’s voice starts to crack more, it’s been a while since he’s mentioned Robin and even thinking about him still gets him kind of emotional, plus this stressful situation wasn’t helping at all.

“I do music for a living, I like old music and my friends call me a grandma because of it.” The stranger stays frozen, not making any movement at all. “I bloody hate tea, I can’t even stand the smell of it anymore and it’s all because of one bad memory I still can’t let go of.”

Harry hates that the stranger still hasn’t turned to look at him, not even a glance in his direction.

“When I’m bored I like to watch old romcoms even if I’ve watched them a dozen times I always get emotional watching them, last time I saw one I cried, while watching  _ Notting Hill _ even if it’s the cheesiest fucking thing ever I just cry because it’s one of the few times I don’t need to be mentally strong and I can just let go.”

Harry’s very exhausted.

``There, now you know a little more about me.’’

  
  


Harry’s never felt more exposed in his life with someone he’d only just met. Again, this could just be a very cruel joke everyone was pulling on him, and he just revealed secrets to someone he hadn’t seen in years. Maybe it’s all just a big Punk’d prank and all the cameramen are waiting to jump out at any moment and Zayn will turn around to reveal the surprise.

But it’s just silent, with the faint sound of a storm getting closer.

The stranger slowly turns around to look at Harry.

  
  


“What kind of psychopath doesn’t enjoy a good cup of tea?“ The stranger finally says in a disgusted tone. 

Harry only shrugs, giving him an exhausted smile, trying his best not to break down in front of this unknown man. The stranger just gives Harry another suspicious glance, not sure what to do anymore.

“Jeez mate you got issues.” The stranger says to Harry in a much calmer tone. “You really don’t know how you got here?”

Harry only shakes his head. “I was in Tokyo the night before and the next thing I know I’m on this beach unconscious.”

The storm sounded dangerously closer to them and the stranger only sighs.

“Well first of all, this place is called Eroda, so welcome to this shit island I guess.”

“Never heard of it.” Harry says, scratching his head in confusion.

“Well this place is kind of hidden so most maps don’t have it marked on them.” The stranger says scratching his head nervously. 

  
  


Both of them jump when they hear a very strong thunderclap nearby, the beach was getting more dangerous from the looks of it, plus it was getting pretty dark now.

The man just scratches his head more furiously while looking at Harry.

“I guess it would be cruel of me to leave you here on your own.” The man points at Harry. “You’re all soaking wet and soon it will rain worse than before, if you want to use my house phone and wait there until the rain passes you can.”

Harry’s eyes light up.

“Really?”

The man just shrugs. 

“You gave me a fucking resume of your life so I guess it’s the least I can do for you.” He turns around again. “Just follow me, it’s really not that far and we got to hurry I don’t want to fuck up my canvas more than it already is.’’

The stranger starts walking and Harry follows.

Harry sighs in relief, finally he could call for help and maybe get some dry clothes before he catches a cold.

“So what about yours?” Harry asks.

“My what now?”

“Your name, I already gave you mine and a tiny resume of my life, I think the least I deserve is to know who you are.” Harry says, giving the stranger a look of curiosity that kind of makes the stranger look away again.

The man stops and offers his hand to Harry.

“I’m Javadd.” Harry takes a little while but proceeds to shake Javadd’s hand. “Not Zayn, not anyone else, just Javadd. And that’s all you’re getting from me, got it?” He says, gripping Harry’s hand a little tighter. Harry nods and gives him a tiny smile, still lost in a sea full of questions, secretly hoping that all of this was just an elaborate joke.

  
  


_ “Wasn’t that Zayn’s second name?” _

  
  


Fuck it he’s going to take what he can at this point.

Javadd let’s go of Harry’s hand and continues walking.

“Come on, it's not that far away I can hear the storm coming.” Harry nods. He looks behind one last time, checking the spot where the lightning had struck the boat, some parts of the boat were still on the shore.

_ “So this is happening I guess.” _

Harry watches the sun slowly hide away for the night, the sight sincerely beautiful.

“Oi mate, you coming or what?”

Harry follows Javadd quickly, hoping that maybe later he’ll wake up from this weird bizarre dream.

He hopes he will soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Again im gonna try to be consistent with the chapters its not like i have somewhere else to go tbh, thx for reading this chap!


End file.
